ɴow
by long long ago
Summary: 「・・・and in the time we spent together, and in those memories we shared, I will treasure them forever.」 Hopefully-pairing-free, RinLen sibling fluffies ・ one-shot ・ featuring an excessive amount word vomit.


ɴow | Vocaloid fan-fiction featuring Rin K & Len K | by long long ago

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**ɴow**

_together, forever & always_

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They used to say that our hearts beat in time, in synchronisation, like a metronome—but that was before his stopped beating.

They used to say our souls were half of one, that we could not be separated, and that if one were to go missing, the other would cease to exist without it—but he proved that statement wrong.

I still exist, sadly. It's worse.

Now, our hearts don't beat in synchronisation. Now, there's only just one half left. Now, it's just the Kagamine child or the Kagamine girl—and not the Kagamine children or the Kagamine twins.

And it hurts.

And no one can understand how much it hurts—when you supposedly lose your other half, that part of you which means so much more than anything else in the world—it's a pain that's so incredible you could almost die feeling it. You just don't know what to do with yourself anymore. And that is my pain.

I'm just the Kagamine girl. Not a Kagamine twin—not anymore. There's just one now. You can't say there are two when all you can see is one.

He's gone. I think I see him sometimes but he is gone. Once you go, you go. You don't hang back for a little bit of chitchat or to fiddle fart around. You can't. There's one or the other: life or death. Len chose one. He chose the death.

My parents wonder why I just can't 'get over it' already. It's happened. It's in the past. But it's hard to escape the past when it keeps coming back to you.

I want to forget. I want to stop feeling so helpless and in despair and lost. I'm sick of wanting to die, but not being able to do anything about it. I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of this place. I'm sick of everything.

I just want to see him again. I want to say I'm sorry. I want to say thank you. I want to say I love you. I want to say so many things, all the things I could have never had said to him before now. I want to see his blue eyes again. I want to touch his skin again. I want to smell his familiar scent again. I want to hear his smooth, soft voice again. I want, I want, I want. But I can't because he's gone and once you're gone, you can't come back.

He was the only person who didn't make me feel like an alien, the only person who appreciated me for who I really was. He could always make me smile—somehow, he'd just find a way. He's all I ever wanted and needed. He's my sunlight in the darkness, the thing that got me out of bed in the morning. And I know I sound crazed and obsessed, and I know it doesn't sound exactly right—but he really is my everything. If he and I weren't twins, if he and I never met; then I don't know who I'd be or what I'd be like or how I'd even live. He means more than anything to me.

(no one can understand that)

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A few weeks before his untimely passing, Len and I were sitting on the lounge watching TV and the news came on, with, as usual, bad news that someone had died, somehow. It was always like that. People dying. Cancer, car accident, disease—there were too many causes of death, too many sad stories.

"I don't want to die," I remarked. And I really meant it.

Len looked at me, eyes glinting with the dim glow of the television screen. "Why?" he asked.

"Because," I said, "I'm afraid to die."

And he stared at me strangely, for a few moments, his deep cerulean eyes studying mine. Then he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not afraid to die. Everyone dies eventually. I'm just afraid of what comes after it."

Then he reached over and squeezed my hand and kept it there for the rest of the night.

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Sometimes I would go into his room in the middle of the night and hope he's in his bed sleeping soundly, but he isn't; his room is all packed up and dusty, and his smell is no longer there, and so the best I can do is sit down on the edge of his bed and close my eyes and think about all the times we spent together, and wish we had more.

Sometimes I would hear him say my name just randomly, but I know it isn't really his voice or him calling me; because he can't and my mind is just making it up. Sometimes I would respond to it quietly anyway, like, "Len? What's the matter?" but I know I'll never get back an answer, because he didn't call me in the first place.

Sometimes I would talk to him even though I knew he wasn't there, and I would tell him how I feel and how much I hate him for leaving me, and how much everything has changed since he's been gone. I would then cry, because somehow, at the end of every self-discussion, I would say, "…but you can't hear me." and it would hurt so much.

Sometimes I would leave school straightaway in the afternoons and go to where he is now and I would sit there and cry and imagine him next to me until the sun starts setting in the sky. And then I would trace his name in the foggy windows of the train on the way home, and I would hope the train would run off the rails and crash or explode or something I so desperately want to happen, so I can just be there, next to him.

Sometimes I would look up out the windows at night and look at the stars, and wonder if he was up there, somehow, if there really is a heaven. I would imagine him looking down at me and smiling, and I would smile up the sky a bit, just in case he really was.

Sometimes I would find something sharp, and I'd do the things I know he'd get upset at me about, because I needed to remind myself that this was not a bad dream. And then I would cry afterwards because I'd know if he was here he'd be scolding me, he'd be worrying over me, and I would feel bad for doing this, for being so selfish, for hurting myself in the way I did.

Sometimes I would remember the last time we spoke to each other—that I was the last person to have spoken to him before he went, and I would wish I had said something more meaningful than just, "Bye."

Sometimes I would think about if only something had happened differently, that maybe he would still be here. Maybe if I had kept talking a little more—if I had decided to tell him that I was selected to be the main character in the play at school rather than keeping it a secret until later—maybe then he would have left a few minutes later and the truck wouldn't have hit his car before then, and that he would've come home safe and sound that night. Maybe if the truck driver had decided not to drink over the limit and then drive, maybe he wouldn't have hit Len's car. Maybe if there was a traffic jam on the way, Len might have missed his death. Maybe if he had got into his car a second later, then maybe he would still be alive.

Sometimes I would remember those times I visited him in hospital, in those last few days of his short life, and I would remember the sick feeling inside my stomach as I looked at his bandaged head and pale skin, and the frustration that consumed me when the doctor said he wouldn't wake up—he _couldn't_ wake up, and that I was _yelling and yelling and yelling_ at him to open his eyes, to not give up, and that my parents had to decide whether to let him go or let him stay, even though he'd probably never open his eyes again.

They did let him go eventually, on the 22nd of December, 2001, when he was only 17—just five days before our 18th birthday. And it was then I realised that I would grow old without him, and that I would die after him, and that I would fall in love and have children and live when he didn't get the chance to. And then I realised that it wasn't fair, that I didn't want to grow old or fall in love or have children without him growing old and falling in love and having a family of his own along with me. And I wouldn't have nieces or nephews, or a sister-in-law, and we wouldn't have cool family meetings to reminisce our youth when we're old and have our own jobs. And he wouldn't be there anymore to make jokes or hold my hand and have silly fights with me, and that I was all alone, because he didn't exist. He doesn't exist now.

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I found a tape from our 16th birthday that a friend had made—something that I'd never thought I'd want to watch because it was just a silly tape and it really didn't matter. The reason I did watch it, though, was because I wanted to see Len alive again; I wanted to see him breathing and talking like normal, before now, before any of this happened, before any of us knew what was coming.

I hadn't watched it before now, but Len had, and he urged me to watch it because it was apparently hilarious—but I just forgot about it. My hand was shaking so much as I put it into the VCR I was afraid I was going to break the tape somehow, but I didn't, and as it started, so did the tears.

It began with all of us standing around the table and singing happy birthday, and Len's arm was linked with mine and we were both smiling and singing to each other goofily. He was wearing a button-up yellow t-shirt which purposefully matched my yellow tank top, as we'd made a joke earlier that morning to dress up in matching clothes like we used to when we were kids. The Rin in this video was so different to the me now; she was happy and smiling, and all I am is a miserable little girl.

After we finished singing, Miku—a friend—had pulled the camera to her face and said, "Let's get the opinions of the birthday butts!" And brought the camera over to us, where Len was stuffing his face with cake and had icing on his nose.

"God, Len, make yourself presentable for the paparazzi!" younger me joked loudly, wiping his nose with the napkin.

"Don't mother me! I look hot the way I am," he had responded, nudging me away, before pulling the camera towards his face. His grin had faltered slightly and he then asked Miku over his shoulder, "Hey! Is this recording?"

Miku had cracked up laughing and said, "Yeah—say something to it!"

But before Len could, Kaito had butted his face in front of Len's and flashed the camera with his chest, before shouting, "STAY COOL, KAGAMINE BUMS!" And then he flexed a bit in front of the camera, before Miku directed it away. After that, Miku and Kaito started to bicker—Miku holding the camera still and Kaito arguing into it—and that's when I laughed a bit, and realising how much I missed them. I hadn't talked to them in ages—not since Len's funeral.

The camera got tossed back and forth between Miku, Kaito and Luka—who had tried to pry it away from Miku in fear of bloodshed—before Len had taken it to tape younger me discreetly, while I'm distracted with eating my cake and giggling at everyone else. He was saying under his breath, "And this is the very rare species of Rin—whom specialises in being an annoying twin sister, an adorable twin sister, and a smart twin sister. If you ever come across a Rin, feed it with mandarins and it will fall in love with you. Its weaknesses are scratches behind the ear, lots of attention and affection, and chick flicks. It is usually found in the wild with a Len—and they are hard to separate."

Younger me had looked over at Len, noticing his attention on me and asked, "Hey! What are you doing?"

He laughed and reached over to ruffle my hair, in which I screwed my face up at. "Just taking some snapshots of my Rinny. Don't want to let a pretty face go to waste, eh?" he told me. He had then grabbed the camera and continued to briefly introduce everyone at the party with the same documentary-like voiceover.

I couldn't really see too well after that because I was crying so much—the screen was super blurry. I missed him so much. I missed him. I was about to turn off the TV because I just thought I wasn't going to be able to settle down, but then it switches to Len with the camera facing him, his azure eyes boring into mine.

I stopped, taken aback.

Len grinned at the camera. "I just want to make a sexy announcement to my cool big sis to wish her a big happy 16th birthday! Right now you're out there busting some great moves and I know I could walk up to you instead and tell you this face to face, but I think this is more personal because you'll watch this sometime in the future, right? We'll probably watch this together. Hi, future me!" He paused to chuckle, his cheeks slightly red. "Well—whatever. But yeah, I just want to dedicate this to you for being a big part of my life for the last 16 years. It means so much to me and… you're the best sister anyone could have, I swear. And no matter what, I will always think that. I love you heaps, Rin, and stay cool for me, alright? Just remember that I'll be by your side—I mean, we'll be together, forever and always, even if you can't see me—'cus I just can, okay? I just can. So… yeah. We're half of one soul, remember? I'll always be in your heart."

I was frozen. It was like he was in the room next to me. I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't stop crying. Len then took a breath, looking away from the camera and pursing his lips. "Okay… this is getting really cheesy. God. I bet you are laughing. Stop laughing! I'm being serious. Um, so I hope you had a great birthday and all, you old hag. I don't know whether you have yet, but I hope you do. I have. And… yeah. That's it, I guess. So… I'll see you when I'll see you. Bye."

And the video stopped there.

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I replayed the last past for hours, replaying the words he said. Soon I began to listen to it every night before I went to bed, and this went on for a month. Then the tape went missing—I don't know how or when, but it did—and that was the last time I got to hear Len while he was still alive.

During the dead of winter, I realise I hadn't visited Len for half a year. I'm busy, actually. I'm trying to catch up with Miku and Luka; I'm trying a little bit. Sometimes Miku would ask, "Is it hard?" and I would go, "A lot of things are hard."

I also have a job, which takes up a lot of my time, as well as distracts me from thinking too much about Len—which is good but also bad in a way, I guess. I'm happier than before, that's for sure.

I decide to visit Len one afternoon and it's snowing, and it's forecasted for snowstorms later that night—but this is my only afternoon off and it isn't like I'm going to be there for long; I just want to pay my respects. I'm a little anxious though, with the grey, stormy clouds, but I try to remind myself I would be okay.

The cemetery is quite large, and Len's all the way down the opposite end. I don't like cemeteries much, actually. They smell weird, and I've watched way too many zombie movies in my time to have the fear of a hand reaching up from the underground and grabbing my ankle. But I've been to the cemetery at least 100 times already and that hasn't happened, so I'm not _as_ worried as I used to be. After all, I'm going to see Len, and that's all that matters.

I trip over at least six times on the way there. I'm almost glad to find Len. His grave is the same as always—white stone, carved letters reading:

_In loving memory of Len Kagamine_

_Beloved brother and son_

_27__Dec. 1983 – 22 Dec. 2001_

_Forever in our hearts_

It hurts in my chest whenever I see it. Tight, squeezing, like someone's wrapped their hands around my heart and are trying to choke it. But I've long gotten used to it.

When I come here, I usually talk to him quietly—sometimes I bring things like flowers to show my respect and all, but I didn't get the time to buy them today. So, I just talk to him and apologise for being so slack. I tell him about the tape and how I watched it, and how I then lost it somehow. Then I tell him about Miku and Luka, and my job, and my parents. I tell him about Mum being diagnosed with cancer and my plans for the future—and just things like that.

I realise it's starting to get rather dark, and the snow and wind is picking up, so I try to wrap up the rest of my little self-conversation quickly—which always ends with the repetitive reminder of his death and how he's no longer here anymore. Then, like always, I say goodbye and blow a kiss. I swear I'm more intimate with a piece of stone rather than my very own family members.

By the time I'm at my car the snow is coming down really heavy and I can barely see the road. It's miraculous how it just picked up, all of a sudden. I turn on the exhaust and crank the heaters to unfreeze my nose and cheeks, and slowly indicate onto the road.

It's pretty dead, and the snow is thick. And when the snow finally clears; the road is slippery and hard to see, and the whole time I'm thinking, _This was a bad idea, Rin. This was a very bad idea._

Just as I consider pulling over and waiting for the storm to subside a little, the loud honk of a horn jostles me out of my thoughts and I swerve in reaction as the headlights of a vehicle fly past me, and the car slides on the road in the wrong direction, heading straight for a tree, and my whole life flashes before my eyes as I try to gain control—

And… no, I don't die; I just end up in a massive ditch with a headache from slamming on the breaks so hard. I don't know how I missed the tree—but I did, and I think I just shit myself—_literally_.

My heart is pounding in my chest and my palms are sweaty and trembling, and I'm on the verge of crying. In reaction, I slam my face into the wheel in relief. "Oh, God—good _God_," I say, pressing my hands into my eyes and wiping my tears. "Shit. Shit, shit, _shit._"

I have to pinch myself to check I'm not dead. I even hit myself. How did that even happen? How did I even miss that tree? How did I not just _die?_

Eventually, once I calm down and the snowfall lessens a bit, I climb out of the car to see what I'd really done. It's gone pretty deep into the ditch, but I don't think there's really any much damage. Although, I don't know whether I'll be able to get out—the snow seems too thick. I might have to call Dad.

And then I remember Dad, and I think about how utter furious my parents will be when they find out. I lean against the car, rubbing my head.

"What am I going to do?" I ask myself aloud. More like, it was a question to the gods.

I stand outside of my car for a bit, dwelling on the issue. Yes—I'm trying to avoid having to call my dad. My parents stressed enough with Len; and here I have to ring them because I've been in an accident. I feel sorry for them sometimes. I really do.

I wait for any cars or signs of life nearby, but no one is on the road—which is a smart choice, might you ask me. Shivering, I go to get back into the car to ring home, but pause when I spot a figure a few metres away.

Fantastic.

They're walking in the opposite direction, so I start calling out, "Hey!" to try and get their attention. In the end, due to their lack of response, I plunge into the knee-deep snow and follow after them. I get closer and their features start to become clearer—they're taller than me, so it might be a guy, and they're wearing a grey hoodie, so it could also be a thug. But I'm not the one to use stereotypes.

"Hey—hello?" I say to them, and the person turns. He/she has their hands in their pockets of their jeans, and their face is barely visible. It's really strange for them to be wearing next to nothing in the middle of winter. I try to smile at them—nervously—as I walk closer and clear my throat awkwardly. "Um, do you think you could help me with uh… my car?" I gesture to the car in the distance and they follow my hand with their head.

A minute of silence follows. For some strange reason, I feel like I've seen that hoodie before. I can't stop staring at it. "Don't you think you should call your parents for help?" they ask back nonchalantly—in a male voice. There's something really _eerie_ about this person—not the fact that I can't see their face, but rather the hoodie, and their stance, and their _voice_—wait, what kind of question is that?

I swallow uneasily, wringing my wrists with my hands. "Um… But could you help me?" Why would someone ask that kind of question? That's weird. It's like he's assuming I have parents, like he knows me well.

Still, I'm freaked out. A guy who walks in the middle of a snowstorm in just a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie I swear to _God_ I've seen before, and has a voice that…

…sounds almost identical to Len's.

Fuck. Maybe I am going insane. Maybe I got brain damage. Maybe I died. Oh God. Get real, Rin—it's not _Len_, it will never _be_ Len, because he's _dead_, he's _dead_, he's godforsaken _dead!_

"Sorry," he says. "I can't help you."

Then he lifts his head enough to reveal his face.

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Alarm bells are ringing in my head. Pale skin and familiar, fair features—Len's carbon copy stands in front of me, breathing—living. The exact clothes from the night of his death—I remember them; I remember insisting he'd wear something warmer because it was winter for god's sake. He didn't. If only he did listen to me and changed… maybe he would still be here.

His cheeks are flushed, white vapour escaping his mouth with every breath he takes; his lips turned up slightly into a goofy grin, eyes glittering in the dim streetlight above us. I can't move. I can't even breathe. I'm in shock. No. No. _No._

"Don't look so surprised," he continues smoothly. I want to cry but I can't; I want to vomit but I can't even do that, either. "I wouldn't have let you go in the same direction as me. You may want to differ with my motives, but I desperately want you to live your life, Rin."

Then I do cry, and I do it quite hideously. "Why?" I ask. "Why did you not come to me sooner?"

Len steps forward slightly to look down on me, eyes soft and caring. His breath is warm; but I'm not even sure if this is real or not. "I was never gone. I was always there. The reason you never knew is because you chose not to—but I am always with you. I made a promise. We'll be together, forever and always; even if you can't see me—I'm in your heart."

His warm hand rests against my cheek, gently brushing away the tears. "But you never gave me any sign," I reason. "You never came to comfort me while I was crying myself to sleep. You never responded to my calls. You never did _anything_ to let me know you were there."

"But you didn't need me. You just _wanted_ me. It wasn't as if I was ignoring you—I listened to every word you said to me, and I was next to you every time you were crying—but you didn't _need_ my answers. You didn't need a sign to know whether I was here or not. But you chose to expect a response for everything and not believe it anyway," he tells me. "Do you really think I would just stop existing that easily? Do you really think I would leave you alone? Do I seem really that selfish to you?"

I cry more. I'm making Len mad—and this is probably the last time I'll ever get to see him, or get to talk to him directly before I die.

Len pulls me into a cosy hug, his scent still there even though he's dead. "Rin, I'm not angry at you. I just want you to know that I'm here, and I always will be forevermore. Just because someone dies, it doesn't mean they won't exist after that. They always exist in the past as people—and in the future as memories. So stop crying, will you?" He draws back and looks me directly in the eye. "Smile a bit and make the most of what you got. Being miserable isn't going to do anything."

I try to smile, just to make him smile too. And he does. "I'm sorry," I murmur. "I'm sorry for being so stupid all the time."

"You aren't stupid," he says. "You're my beautiful, intelligent twin sister. You mean the world to me. And I just want to see you happy." He leans forward and kisses my forehead gently, before pulling me into another hug. "Now you should probably call Mum and Dad and tell them that you've had a therapy session with your dead twin brother, and that you also crashed your car."

I laugh. "Yippee. They'll probably call an ambulance because they'll think I'm crazy."

He chuckles and ruffles my hair. "Nothing more fun than a free ride in the ambulance," he says.

"Yeah," I agree. Then we both fall into a mutual silence, him just staring at me with a small smile on his face and me looking down at my feet and fidgeting uncomfortably. "So… this'll be the last time we talk in a while, right?"

I have to admit; Len looks a little sad after I say that. "I guess it is."

"I'm sorry, thank you, I love you," I blurt out all in one breath. "I just needed to say that. Also, can I sniff you a bit? I won't get to smell you for another—uh, let's hope more than forty years?"

"Sixty," Len corrects rather confidently. "I mean, sure. Do you want fries with that?"

I hit him playfully and he grins goofily at me, his blue eyes almost glowing in the dark. Then I hug him tightly and bury my head into his chest to take long deep breaths of his clothing; the scent of deodorant and clean clothes and soap almost fresh. "This is creepy," I say into his chest.

"Well, I never knew my sister had a fetish with the way I smell, so yes—I guess it is," he responds, his chest reverberating against my ear.

"No, silly," I say. "I mean, I'm hugging my dead twin brother and he feels just as alive as he felt just before he died. Should all dead people feel like that?"

We pull away and Len winks at me. "Oh, that's a secret. Dead people confidential only."

"No fair!" I whine mock-childishly.

Then he rolls his eyes. "Says the person who is actually still alive," he grumbles. "Look—I'll give you a hint; this is all an illusion. I'm not living, you know. If you went to my grave and dug up my body, my remains would still be there."

"So we can technically be alive through illusions when we're dead?" I question, raising my eyebrows. "How about you come home to dinner, then?"

Len smiles at me sadly, putting his hand on the top of my head. "Unfortunately, only _you_ can see me and feel me, because you're so hip and all. And I can't spend hours like this. I got to be actually _dead_, Rin."

"Oh." I'll be honest and say I want to cry, but I know I shouldn't because Len is dead and all and it'd be conceited of me to beg and groan _please don't go_. I try to smile. At least he's here. At least he bothered to let me know he's still around; alive or not. "Thank you for being a great brother."

He nods once. "Thank you for being a great sister."

"Thank you for being a part of my life," I continue.

"Thank you for being a part of mine," he replies.

I try to squint to stop myself from crying; the tears pricking the corners of my eyes. "I'll miss you. I'll always miss you."

"Jeez," Len says. "Am I a celebrity or what? Making girls cry all the time. I should really stop." He sees my solemn expression and laughs, pulling me under his arm to ruffle my hair with his fist. I make sounds of protest because it actually _hurts_. "I'll be right beside you always, Rin. Don't miss me. I feel like I have repeated myself fifteen times about this issue already."

I manage to pull away, and then I really do cry. "I'm sorry for sucking so much. And I'm sorry for crying like a baby."

"Rin?" he calls.

"Yeah?" I look at him.

He puts something into my hands and nods. "Don't let it bother you. It's not like we get out of this place alive, anyway." I look down at my hands inquisitively and see the missing tape from our 16th birthday. Scrawled in fresh black marker next to 'The Kagamine's 16th B'day Party!' are the words, '+ Len's special edition.'

I glance up, mouth open to say something, but he's gone for good, and I'm standing all alone in the middle of an ocean of white snow.

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I put the tape in when I got home later that night after a good half-hour scolding by my parents. I wonder what Len had been doing with it—and whether he'd actually added those words now, or whether I'd just not noticed them earlier.

I watched all the way through to the supposed end where Len does his personal birthday wish to 16 year old me, and just as it flicks off, the screen changes to another scene as the words, 'Memories' flashes across the screen, and soon what follows after that is one of the earliest memories I've ever had: when Len and I were five and went to the zoo, and we both got lost.

It was hazy and kind of not clear like the usual film before—and the next scene after that; our sixth birthday was only a little bit better. And the scenes kept changing—some are sad, like my aunt's funeral, and some are happy, like the time Len and I won awards for singing or a musical instrument—each scene gradually getting less fuzzy and more 'realistic' in a sense—more of the memories of the clips filling my head. But I sit there, shell-shocked and in tears (what is new?), because half of these things weren't even on camera—so how did Len get this? Unless…

Every birthday party, every significant event in our lives flashes before my eyes, and it gets more and more terrifying as it closes in on our 17th birthday—and then… the day of the accident.

"Len, are you seriously going out in just _that?_" I was saying on the television. "Jesus—you'll catch a cold or something, let alone get _frostbite_, for God's sake!"

Len brushed me off. "I'll be okay—I'm only going to get some milk—it's not like it's a mission to Mars. Don't mother me, Rin," he responded, slipping on his sneakers and reaching into his pocket to retrieve his car keys.

"At least wear your winter coat," I reasoned anxiously.

"Rin," he said, turning to me. "Stop worrying about me. I'll be fine. Go and boil the water while you're waiting."

"Fine," I grunted, giving in. "Just be careful, Len. Call me if you need anything."

Len had rolled his eyes, opening the door and letting the rush of cold air into the hall. "Yeah, yeah. Love you," he said.

"Bye," I replied quickly, just as he shut the door.

It shows Len trudging down to his car and hopping in, starting his exhaust. He seems so calm on the television, unaware of what would happen to him in only a matter of minutes—it's unsettling, it really is. It shows him driving along the road, a light sprinkle of snow raining down on the road ahead. Calm, normal. My heart's starting to thud away in my chest just waiting for the next thing to happen.

It does. I hear the screech of tires and see the headlights of the truck headed straight for him. Len turns pale, desperately trying to swerve. I can't watch it past that point. I close my eyes and cover my ears.

Sooner or later, I open my eyes again and look at the TV screen, to see it's black. But then there are voices, faint, but I can hear them—"Len, Len—if you're there, if you can hear me, can you please open your eyes? Please, Len? Please, please, please, just open your eyes. Don't leave me, Len."

It's my voice, begging and pleading—and occasionally Mum's voice and Dad's voice, whispering and talking to him or each other. This must have been during the last few days—when he was in a coma. He really was listening. He just couldn't open his eyes or respond—because he had brain damage and he was weak and he was dying. And then the doctor's voice came in, rather louder this time, like it's an emphasis or something important to Len—"Are you sure you want to let him go?" the doctor asked. There were murmurs of agreement, as well as a loud wail—which probably belonged to either Mum or me.

And then there was silence for a long time, and I'm sitting there waiting for the next thing.

It doesn't happen.

I start to think I've somehow reached the end of the tape, so I go to turn the TV off, but then there's this flash of white light and I nearly have a heart attack, in the meantime fall off my bed. And on the screen, there are colours and lights and designs and all these things flying past, and there are voices and sounds and loud bangs and it's like a mini supernova in my television screen. Eventually, the light fades back to black and it's silent again, and I just wait for a while in case of the same situation like before.

The screen disperses into extremely high-definition images with bright and beautiful colours, as it starts to flick back and forth through events; I'm seeing parts of his funeral here and my eighteenth birthday (which wasn't really an eighteenth birthday anyway) there, and Mum and Dad in the kitchen cooking, and me in my room crying, and Mum and Dad fighting and shouting about something, and an intersection, then back to my eulogy at his funeral, and then a dachshund peeing on the flowerbed outside, and then his room being cleaned out, and then Mum, Dad and I visiting his grave, and then Mum's eulogy, and Dad's eulogy, and Miku at the library, and Kaito at the game's plaza in town with Gakupo, and me cutting myself for the first time, and the scene of a car accident, and the hospital, and then the intersection Len died at, and then me seeing Miku and Luka, and Mum being diagnosed with cancer, and me watching and re-watching the birthday film, and me getting a job, and Mum going in for chemo, and Dad coughing up blood, and me in my car on the way to see him—and then it pauses slightly, the screen flickering.

It suddenly rushes forward to me in the car on the way home in the middle of the storm, and it has the car with the horn and the headlights and it has me swerving in reaction, and then it shows my car in the tree, all in high-speed.

Then it slows down, zooming into me, zooming into my face, the blood, oh God the blood—the airbag didn't work and I have no _freaking idea_ if that's me dead or alive—and then there's screaming, and I realise it's _Len_ screaming, and the 'camera' drops to the ground and starts to tremble. And then it suddenly flickers over to a white room and a white bed and a corpse, and my parent's horrified expressions as they enter the room with a doctor, and the doctor peels back the white sheet to reveal my face—and I realise that I'm dead on the television.

It's heartbreaking to watch them cry, and the whole time I can hear Len screaming in the back of my head, and the 'camera' is still shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking—and then it goes backwards—back in time.

And it goes to the scene again where the car honks and I swerve, and instead of hitting the tree, the car somehow hits a pothole which never existed before and alters its direction, and it goes down, down into the ditch with a crunch.

And then the camera starts moving slowly past the car and I'm sitting in there, cursing my own mind off—it just stays there for a bit, watching me, before it starts to walk away slowly. After a long while of silence, I start to hear my own voice—"Hey! Hey! Hey!" and the sounds of someone running after the camera in the snow. The camera turns slowly, and stops there, on me, looking nervous but somewhat hopeful.

The screen goes black again, and I hear Len's voice—"Just because someone dies, it doesn't mean they won't exist after that. They always exist in the past as people—and in the future as memories."

It is then, I realise Len had just given me his memories—and in the time we spent together, and in those memories we shared, I will treasure them forever.

_{ thank you }_

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* * *

**a/n;** WELL THAT SUCKED QUITE EFFICIENTLY, EVEN SOLAR PANELS CANNOT BEAT IT IN EFFICIENCY.

Okay so—

A) I DID NOT PLAN THIS AT ALL, IN CASE YOU HAVE NOT NOTICED THE HORRIBLE STORYLINE _(storyline: RIN IS DEPRESSED BECAUSE HER BROTHER IS DEAD – RIN KEEPS BEING DEPRESSED – RIN NEARLY DIES AND CLICHÉ LEN APPEARANCE – SLOPPY SHIT – MORE SLOPPY SHIT – WEIRD SHIT – WEIRD & SLOPPY ENDING.)_

B) I DID NOT INTENTIONALLY MEAN TO MAKE RIN AND LEN'S RELATIONSHIP SLIGHTLY INCESTUOUS. THIS IS WHY I SHOULD BE PUT IN JAIL—along with illegally downloading music. FORGIVE ME.

C) THIS WAS UNINTENTIONALLY VERY PREDICTABLE AND BORING AND GAY (Yes, it's homosexual). FORGIVE ME.

D) DO NOT ASK ME 'is len a gost' BECAUSE **NO**—HE IS A TALKING WAFFLE, CAN'T YOU TELL?

E) YES I AM POSTING THIS FOR ATTENTION BATHE ME IN IT PLS. No, actually, I just wanted to post it because it would be a waste if I spent almost all of my day typing this up and not doing anything with it.

E) I am aware that there is a lot of tense fail in this, as I was even confusing myself—I'm usually quite okay with tenses, but you know. Feel free to correct me somehow.

There was probably not the need for capitals but w/e—it makes me sound angry. IN CONCLUSION, NEVER READ MY FAN-FICTIONS AGAIN. Thank you :o)


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